The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 239: Dragon Blood Mountain's Heart

Mo Ran listened emptily and numbly.

He had stopped shouting. He sat where he was, his eyes fixed straight ahead, unblinking.

"Everything was going smoothly until then. But at that time, the Lower Cultivation Realm was suffering from severe sky rifts, causing refugees to scatter everywhere and famine to run rampant."

The scene before him brightened again. It was early winter, with fine snow falling from a lead-gray sky. A mountain path slowly appeared before Mo Ran. The road was covered in a layer of white frost, dusted with fresh snow, and marked with intersecting tracks of carriages and horses.

"I didn't expect that one day, on our way back from gathering spirit stones at the foot of the mountain, we would encounter a child on the brink of starvation."

Mo Ran continued to stare blankly.

Chu Wanning and Huai Zui appeared on the mountain trail. Chu Wanning carried a basket on his back filled with raw spirit stones, while he wore a cotton cloak for warmth as he walked beside Huai Zui.

"Sect Master," Chu Wanning suddenly paused and turned his head towards a patch of overgrown grass. "There seems to be someone there?"

"Let's go take a look."

Together, they approached, and Chu Wanning's slender, fair fingers brushed aside the tangled grass. Startled, he widened his phoenix eyes slightly, "It's a child..."

He immediately turned around and said to Huaizui, "Master, come quickly. Take a look at him, what's wrong with him?"

What's the matter?

Be it Huai Shui or Mo Ran, one could tell at a glance.

The child was filthy and stank, clad in tattered, thin clothes that would likely be unwearable if removed, for they were punctured with numerous holes. To put it bluntly, even the dogs in the temple, fed on scraps, lived a more vibrant existence than this child.

If not for the child's moans and the faint signs of breath, he would have been no different from a pile of rotten flesh.

What was there to say? There was nothing more to it.

In the face of great disasters, human strength was always so insignificant and feeble. It wasn't uncommon for people to exchange their own children for food, let alone the death of one child.

Only someone like Chu Wanning, who had grown up in a temple, could ask such an imprudent question with a dazed look.

Huai Zui frowned and said, "Don't worry about it. Go back first. I'll take a look at him."

Trusting in his Master, Chu Wanning promptly rose to his feet. However, before he could take a step, the hem of his cloak was tugged by a grubby little hand.

The hand was so weak that its grip was light, like a tiny puppy's gentle scratch.

Chu Wanning lowered his head, meeting a dirty face with indiscernible features.

The child's voice was barely audible, as if a single snowflake falling from the sky could crush and obliterate him.

"Food..."

Chu Wanning was taken aback, not immediately comprehending. "What?"

"...Food..." The child whimpered, his face covered in grime except for two whites of his eyes. He shakily mimicked the action of eating, pleading, "Eat..."

Outside the painting, Mo Ran blinked, partially regaining his senses.

Still, his mind was numb, unable to react quickly. He only vaguely sensed that this scene seemed eerily familiar, as if he had witnessed it somewhere before.

He stared unblinkingly.

Within the painting, Chu Wanning was already stunned.

His eyes widened in shock. Finally understanding the situation, he first felt lost and incredulous, then panicked and flustered.

He knew of the pleasures of life on earth but had never seen a child so thin that his bones protruded, resembling a starving kitten or puppy, huddled in the snow-covered grass with nothing but a tattered cloth, too thin for summer, to shield him from the cold. The child clung to him, repeating only two words.

Food, and eat.

Huaizui sternly said, "You should go back first."

But this time, Chu Wanning didn't listen. Gazing at the child, who looked like a little dirty dog, his heart ached terribly. He hastily removed his cloak and wrapped it around the child.

Anxiously, as if he were the one suffering, he said, "Are you hungry? Wait here, I have rice porridge. I have rice porridge."

He went to ask Huaizui for some, but Huaizui frowned.

"I told you to go back. This isn't your concern."

"Why isn't it my concern?" Chu Wanning was bewildered. "He... He's so pitiful, Master. Can't you see? He just wants some food. If this continues, he'll starve to death or freeze."

Speaking up to this point, he himself found it hard to believe. He muttered, "What's going on? Didn't they say the world was at peace? Why would this happen?"

"Go back."

Chu Wanning was taken aback. He didn't understand why Huai Wei had suddenly become like this. Finally, he bit his lip and said, "I want to feed him some rice soup..."

"I couldn't refuse, so I agreed," Huai Wei's ethereal voice sighed, mingling with the howling wind and snow as it drifted into Mo Ran's ears. "I gave him the gourd containing rice soup and allowed him to personally tend to that unexpected child. At that time, I had no idea what Chu Wanning would feel or what decision he would make. Back then, I knew nothing."

Mo Ran stared blankly as Chu Wanning opened the gourd pouch and brought it to the child's mouth.

The child eagerly leaned in, but couldn't suckle.

He was on the brink of starvation, with no extra strength left.

Mo Ran's Adam's apple bobbed.

Suddenly, he felt a seed sprout in his mind, pushing through the soil.

He suddenly found everything before him so familiar...

He watched, absorbed.

He was reeling in realization.

Then, at a pivotal moment, the dragon emerged from the waves, clouds and water churning tumultuously.

He shot to his feet, fingers curling into a fist—

It all came flooding back to him!

"Is it you?" He rushed toward Chu Wanning in the painting, his pupils constricting. "Are you him? It's him? You actually... You actually..."

Words failed him as he suddenly covered his eyes with his arm.

His throat was filled with bitterness.

He never could have imagined.

It was Chu Wanning.

That freezing child hidden among the haystacks was none other than the young self who, after burying his mother in a mass grave, had crawled down from that desolate hillside, homeless and begging for survival!

The illusion intertwined with memory, and Mo Ran had never forgotten that snowy day when the young man shed his cloak and wrapped it around him.

With concern etched on his face, Chu Wanning asked, "What's the matter? Are you unable to drink?"

Little Mo Ran was unable to utter more words; only a faint, muffled sob escaped his throat. He narrowed his jet-black eyes and weakly gazed upon him with all the strength he could muster.

"Well, I'll pour it out for you. Please don't mind."

The spout of the pot was unscrewed, and rice porridge was scooped into the young man's palm. He carried it over with cautious care, his expression hesitant, seemingly worried that it might be unclean and that the child might refuse to drink it.

Yet, he had indeed overthought the situation.

"Unclean?"

From Lin Yi to the WuBei Temple, Mo Ran had drunk from rivers, rainfall, and the murky slurry of puddles along the way. He had foraged wild fruits, survived on leftover meals, and in his most desperate moments, he resorted to swallowing earthworms, licking ants, and even eating soil.

Prostrating himself on the ground, he leaned forward to sip the rice soup. In that moment, it felt as if a refreshing ambrosia was flowing down his throat, offered to him by a celestial being descended from the ninth heaven.

"Slowly, slowly, there's more if you need it." Chu Wanning was both astonished and saddened as he watched the soiled little head buried in his palm, desperately licking at the congee with a tragic and pitiful eagerness, his tongue curling like a small animal drinking water.

"You... where did you come from?" he couldn't help asking.

But Mo Ran whimpered without responding. With the congee gone, only a few remnants remained between his fingers, yet he refused to let them go, continually licking at the elder brother's palm, causing Chu Wanning's hand to tingle with a mix of itchiness and pain.

The itch was in his hand, but the ache was in his heart.

"It's alright, there's still more. I'll pour some more for you."

Chu Wanning scooped up another full handful, all the while Mo Ran watched eagerly. As soon as the hand was offered, he leaned in again, eagerly slurping up the congee with a series of smacking sounds.

That full jug of congee, Chu Wanning fed it to him scoop by scoop, crouching down the whole time.

Mo Ran never forgot this moment.

In truth, throughout the many ups and downs of his life that followed, he had often pondered what might have happened if he hadn't encountered this person back then.

He had imagined countless possibilities, but in the end, they all boiled down to one word.

Death.

Starvation, freezing to death, being carried off and ripped apart by wild wolves or dogs, their organs devoured.

If not for meeting that brother, he would have long since joined his mother in the underworld.

That was why, when Mo Ran ascended to become Heaven-Stepping Lord, he deliberately returned to the Monastery of No Sorrow to search for his benefactor from the past. But time had passed too long, and he could no longer clearly remember the face of the one who had saved him. Faced with a courtyard full of shiny bald heads, he only felt inexplicable irritation, and finally waved them away.

The abbot at the time was terrified, unsure where the Monastery of No Sorrow had offended Heaven-Stepping Lord. He waited anxiously for retribution. Yet the following day, the Jade Emperor ordered hundreds of boxes to be brought over. When they were opened, they revealed shimmering golden light—each box was filled with gold.

"The Emperor did not recognize his old friend, so he treated all the monks of the Monastery of No Sorrow equally, rewarding each with ten thousand taels of gold as thanks for saving their lives."

Turns out, the benefactor he searched high and low for, who was trapped on the precipice of life and death, was being confined and bullied by him every day?

Back then, the little brother had taken off his warm cloak and wrapped it around his thin body.

Fate played tricks, yet every night he roughly tore apart the clothes of that little brother from years ago, pressing him down onto the dimly-lit bed, flipping them like two entwined birds.

He searched the world for his benefactor.

Unwittingly, he forced his savior to kneel between his legs, enduring countless insults and bowing his head in submission.

Mo Ran gazed at the scene before him, his eyes gradually filling with red veins.

"How... How could it be you?"

In this life, and the previous one. A profound fate led them to meet, yet a shallow one caused them to betray each other.

It was all predetermined by destiny.

All that lay before him plunged back into darkness, with only the relentless howl of wind and snow filling his ears. Amidst this vast expanse, Hua Zui's hollow voice echoed distant and endless.

"At that time, I asked the child if he would like to stay temporarily at the Monastery of Sorrowless, but he replied that he needed to repay a kindness to his mother, so he had to return to Xiangtan first, no matter what. I couldn't persuade him to stay, so I gave him some food and a bit of silver," Huai Zui recounted. "When that child stumbled down the snowy slope, Wanning stood there watching until his figure was entirely engulfed by the snow and wind, vanishing into the wilderness. Only then did he turn back to the monastery. I went to hold his hand, and I remember how cold it was, like ice."

He fell silent for a moment, but the pain in his voice was still palpable.

"After that day, Wanning mentioned several times his desire to descend the mountain to uphold righteousness, but I did not consent. I even reproached him for his unstable Daoist heart, that a mere stone thrown into water could disturb his meditation. Hence, I punished him with a period of self-reflection on Dragon Blood Mountain, confining him there for a full 164 days."

"At first, he pleaded with me to release him, but eventually, he must have lost all hope and chose to remain silent. For 164 days, I visited him each day, asking about his insights, hoping to alter his perspective. Yet, his response to me never changed – just two words," Huaizui sighed, his voice as quiet as snowfall.

"Entry into the Mortal World."

While others sought purification beyond the heavens, he descended into the world's trials and tribulations after witnessing a child's suffering just once.

"After that, he burned our scriptures, seeking a new path. Concerned about the situation, I released him from captivity, intending to find another way to teach him. Once he had solidified his spirit core after another year, I planned to take him to the Ghost Realm, putting an end to it all."

"I never imagined that on the very night his reflection was over, Chu Wanning would leave without saying goodbye. I found a letter in his meditation chamber. He wrote that even though time had passed, memories of that child still tormented him. Thus, he wished to travel down the mountain for ten days. Fearing I might confine him again, he left under the cover of darkness. Holding that letter, I was filled with frustration and anxiety, yet powerless to act."

Huai Zui sighed. "I had no idea where he went."

A new scene illuminated.

This time, they were back at the Temple of No Sorrow, within its courtyard.

Chu Wanning had returned, covered in dirt and blood, but his eyes shone brightly in the moonlight, radiating determination.

He now resembled a legendary weapon, honed for ages and finally unsheathed, unstoppable by any.

Huai Zui stood before him, both remaining silent.

Yet in Mo Ran's ears, Huaizui's voice continued to narrate softly, "Ten days later, he indeed returned on time. I felt a sense of relief and secretly rejoiced that nothing had changed. I planned to scold him a bit before letting him return to his room for some rest. But I didn't expect that what awaited me was a sharp knife without its sheath."

In the scene, Chu Wanning knelt down and prostrated himself on the ground.

Huaizui frowned slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Wanning, has your master been secluded from the world for too long? The world outside is now vastly different from what you describe. I earnestly beg of you, don't stay in the mountains any longer. Come down and see for yourself. This mortal world is an endless sea of suffering, no longer the utopia you speak of."

Huaizui suddenly flew into a rage. "Nonsense! Do you know what you're saying?"

Chu Wanning had believed that by revealing the truth he had witnessed with his own eyes, he could surely change his master's deafness to reason. He hadn't anticipated Huaizui's reaction and was taken aback before responding, "Master has always taught me to empathize with others' sorrows and share their hardships. ... In these ten days, I have visited twenty-three villages across the Upper and Lower cultivation realms, and the scenes I've seen were horrifying. If Master were to descend the mountain and witness them, you would also... "

Before he could finish his sentence, Huaizui interrupted him in anger, "Who allowed you to leave the mountain on your own?!"

"There are no sun or moon in these mountains. You should strive to attain enlightenment and ascend as soon as possible. Why did you rashly leave the mountain before unraveling the secrets of the heavens and meddle in the affairs of mortals?!"

"How can you, a mere cultivator, hope to alleviate the endless suffering of humanity? Why do you think so highly of yourself?!"

As Huaizui grew angrier, Chu Wanning's eyes widened in response.

He watched his Master pacing under the moonlight, swishing his sleeves, pointing at his nose to scold him loudly, his voice sharp and stern. The shadows of the peach blossom trees fell heavily, tearing apart the figure of the Sinner. Mo Ran observed the confusion, helplessness, astonishment, disappointment, and finally, pain on Chu Wanning's face.

Chu Wanning closed his eyes.

The Sinner raged, "Do you know your mistake?!"

"..."

"Speak up!"

"Master," Chu Wanning paused, his voice as hard as iron, "I don't know."

The Sinner slapped him with an open palm. "How dare you!"

A red mark instantly appeared on Chu Wanning's cheek, but he immediately turned back, his eyes shimmering with confusion and resentment. "Master, for all these years, you've taught me to act with integrity, to care about others and the world. Why, when we truly encounter a great calamity, do you want me to stand by and ignore it?"

"…This is not the same thing at all," the Sinner gritted his teeth. "You… what can you accomplish by leaving the mountain now? Yes, you have remarkable talent, but the dangers of the world are far beyond what you can imagine. Why would you go out there? To betray the fourteen years of nurturing I've given you, to recklessly risk your life in a fit of anger?"

He paused, his words ringing like clashing metal.

"Chu Wanning, if you can't save yourself, how can you save others?!"

And at that moment, Chu Wanning looked up at his master with a mix of fury and sorrow.

He lifted his chin slightly, tears gradually fogging his phoenix-like eyes.

Huaizui had likely never seen Chu Wanning cry before. The moisture in his eyes extinguished some of the rage in his heart. He paused, then hesitantly asked, "You... ah, forget it. Did I hurt you just now?"

But Mo Ran, watching from the side, knew that wasn't the case.

It wasn't the slap that caused Chu Wanning pain; it was the realization that the revered master he had admired since childhood could utter words so contrary to the lofty image he held in his heart.

Slowly, Chu Wanning closed his eyes. After a moment, Mo Ran heard those all-too-familiar words.

He said, "If one does not understand how to save others, how can they save themselves?"

Huaizui froze, his body as still as a clay or wooden statue enshrined in a Buddhist altar, unmoving.

Chu Wanning's voice was slightly hoarse, "The suffering of the world is right before us. Forgive this disciple's ignorance, but I do not understand why Master remains seated aloft all day, closing your eyes to ascend to heaven."

He finished speaking and rose slowly.

In the moonlight, the clothes he wore when he left were no longer pristine; they were stained with mud and blood. Yet, he stood tall and solemn, exuding an aura of grace and dignity.

"I suppose there's no point in pursuing this path of immortality," Chu Wanning said.

Huai Zui was overwhelmed by a surge of fury and confusion. His voice trembled as he shouted, "Rebellious disciple, do you know what you're saying?!"

"I only want to follow what you taught me since I was young," Chu Wanning replied, his sword drawn but quivering slightly. A profound sadness filled his eyes. "You taught me these values. Are your morals merely ink on paper?! When millions of refugees have lost their homes and orphans are dying day and night, am I supposed to stay in seclusion, meditating in front of an ancient Buddha instead of upholding justice?!"

Huai Zui bellowed, veins bulging in his temples. "After you attain enlightenment and ascend, you'll have ample opportunities to do good!"

Chu Wanning stared at him, as if he had never seen this person before. His chest heaved, hands clenched into fists, and his eyes shimmered like a surging river. Mo Ran thought he would soar into the air like a dragon breaking through water, creating a tumultuous wave to strangle Huai Zui and make him realize his foolishness and sin.

But Chu Wanning trembled for a moment before finally doing nothing.

His eyes reddened at the corners, and his voice was hoarse as he said, "Master, I didn't cultivate to live a carefree life or transcend the mortal world. Is cultivating only about becoming a deity? If that's so, then I'd rather not. I'd rather give up halfway, I'd rather achieve nothing, I'd rather stay in the mortal realm."

"I'll pour everything into it until I die from exhaustion."

"..."

"Master, ascend. When I've saved everyone I can, I'll come after you."

"CHU WANNING!!"

Even though it was just an illusion, Mo Ran could sense Huaizui's overwhelming rage, the subtle fear hidden in his heart, and the deep disappointment that cut like a knife.

Why did this wooden statue dare to defy its creator with such cold defiance? What was it compared to the one who had given it life?!

Huaizui's eyes were bloodshot, with a hint of crimson shining through.

He was frustrated, humiliated, and his bitter resentment and secrets had nowhere to be released.

Finally, he called out to Chu Wanning, who was about to step out of the courtyard, his voice icy cold to the extreme: "Disobedient disciple, stop right there."